A Father's Fetish
by soochie
Summary: Desiree Armani has been in the business of heartbreak since the start of her adoptive life, it's nothing to her. But when she meets Joe Jonas, her heart simply won't resume to it's usual hard shell. Confusing summary, apologies. Title may change.


**I have weird quirks, so I have no idea why I wrote this. I was tired of my typical story, guy meets girl at concert, immediate connection. You can't read too much into the story from this first chapter, but it's not your plain old fic. Anyway, I apologize if this isn't your cup of tea, or if you got your hopes up thinking this was the sequel/continuation to 'Fighting Brings Us Together.'**

"I can't see you anymore," I said quietly. I studied the expression that washed over Mike Balvarne, my latest victim. He looked genuinely hurt, my father will be pleased. I'd grown immune to the pained faces, and broken hearts over the years I'd been in this line of work, if you could call it that. My father, Marques Armani, well, he's a normal upscale kind of guy, if you discard his guilty pleasure. He thinks it great fun to play with people's emotions, and has been using me to satisfy his fetish for as long as I've been under his guardianship. I'm adopted, told by child protection services that my parents were 'incapable of raising a child at the present time'. Now anyone can figure out what that means, he nailed her and forgot to cap it. They'd kept me around long enough to name me Desiree, and I don't know my original last name as it's not important. I'm Armani now, Desiree Armani.

"But I love you, Desi," my poor broken hearted latest catch pleaded with me, but I've been through all of it before.

"Sorry Mikey, I just can't do this anymore. We've grown apart," I shot him a genuinely sympathetic look, or it sure looks genuine from the outside. Truth is, I can't wait to get home so daddy can look approvingly at me, than leave me to be a relatively normal girl. Without muttering so much as another syllable, Mike turned the other way and shielded his face, emitting quiet sobs. Dad loves it when they cry, it adds to the effect. So I've called daddy, and now sit waiting for his ominous black limo to come to a congratulatory stop in front of my location. When all said was done, he began his form of interrogation.

"Ah, my little angel. Success?" He always hit the nail right on the head, and spoke his mind. I loved my step dad, don't get me wrong, but at first it felt awkward doing his dirty work. My dad merely has a fetish, he likes to see people get their hearts broken. He's had one since he was a young boy, but it's become more apparent throughout the years of manhood. So naturally, daddy adopted a child who he thought would one day grow into a fine young beauty, I guess that's where I came in. I didn't have low self esteem, all the hearts that I'd broken had led me to feel otherwise. I've got easily manageable hair, a warm chocolate brown color, pin-straight and impossible to curl. My eyes, while a pale combination of blue and green and entirely unvibrant, match my look so they don't seem entirely out of place. I've been home schooled my entire life, daddy always says that there was no use in not taking advantage of his money, so he's hired me many tutors throughout the years. All in all, I'm your relatively average girl with a rock hard interior in the love department.

"You know I don't quit 'till the job's done, daddy," I informed him, with a triumphant smile. He gave me a proud pat on the shoulder, and an approving nod of his head.

"Tell me about it," He closed his eyes, and leaned his head backwards, resting it on the leather of the black seats.

"Just as he was leaning in for the first kiss of the _relationship_," I emphasized relationship, "I pulled back and told him we couldn't be together anymore. He tried to change my mind at first, but I just told him that we'd drifted and I just could not be with him. What a sight, tough Mike Balvarne crying," I replayed the events of earlier in the hour. I always felt a slight twinge of remorse, breaking the hearts of innocent love sick boys, but it was my unspoken duty. Daddy had been kind enough to take me into his house, and provide me with the best care money could buy. All he asked was that I do a simple favor for him, he couldn't help his fetish. Some people are obsessed with feet, others collectors of odd items, while my father got simple pleasure out of seeing others heartbroken. He just nodded, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips while I remained quiet the rest of the way home. After we pulled up to the villa, through the massive gate, and into the spacious four car garage, I hopped out of the limo and ran to the kitchen. I sure wish I'd let Mike buy me some kind of lunch, before laying on the kill.

"Desi? You in the kitchen?" I heard my father's voice, he had the tone that told me I'd have another 'assignment.'

"Yes daddy, need something?" I tried to always be polite to my father, I mean he was pretty much my only source. Home schooling didn't provide much of an outlet for friends, especially because I also was very anti-social around town activities and all. I walked into my father's study, everything was made out of oak or mahogany. The room was cozy, filled with pictures of me and him being a perfect father and daughter couple. I was the apple of my dad's eye, as he'd told me many times prior. He was studying a file on his desk with interest, he likes to keep records of his baby girl's victims.

"Take a look at him," I glanced uninterestedly at the portrait my father held up. In bold, black letters read his name: Joseph 'Joe' Jonas. The rest of the paragraph contained a small biography. He was in a band called the Jonas Brothers, who apparently had a crap load of fan chicks. Meeting him could be the biggest of my entire feats.

"Is he another of my responsibilities?" I always knew when my father wanted me to victimize another guy. He tried to choose some he thought I would find good looking, so I could at least play a good part in the whole 'love' scene. I'm not afraid to admit, Joseph wasn't hard to look at. None of the guys that my dad picked out were, so that only made it ten times easier. "But dad, this guy's like totally hot on the fame scene right now. How on Earth am I supposed to grab his attention for more than ten minutes?"

"Leave that to me, baby girl. Leave that to me," My dad gave me a fatherly smile, before shooing me out of the room. Still not entirely convinced that he could pull this off, I slumped my shoulders and made my way up to the bedroom I called my own. It wasn't lavish or outstanding in anyway, it was just my own personal sanctuary. I had pinups of eighties bands, and the occasional old fashioned clock. That might sound a little bit weird, but I call myself a slight bit of an olden day collector. I seriously don't think my items of choice are old enough to be called antiques, but whatever floats your boat. My personal favorite was the Coca Cola clock that complimented the right wall of my room ever so perfectly.

I was just about to drift off to sleep, after a long hot shower, before my father's voice jolted me back into an awake state.

"Desiree, can you come down here?" He prodded, not going to take no for an answer. So I reluctantly dragged my tired legs out of bed, and clambered down the stairs to his waiting figure.

"Alright, I've arranged for you to meet Mr. Jonas," He smiled innocently. I guessed he'd had help from some of his connections on this one.

"Lay it on me, and we'll get on with the conquest," I replied, smiling fakely.

"Alright, you're arranged to be Franklyn Jonas' babysitter," My dad paused, as if daring me to protest, I didn't. He smiled and continued on, "And Joe will be around for the night, so that is when I want for you to make your move,"

"But if Joe's going to be home, why do I need to be Frankie's babysitter?" I questioned him.

"Mrs. Jonas, Denise, seems to think he's incapable of taking care of the young kid," My dad said, shrugging. Oh great, that probably means Joe's incredibly arrogant, or horribly immature. This should be a fun one, not.

"Alright dad, leave the directions and instructions out for me, I swear I'm about to pass out from sleep deprivation," I begged him, and he gave me a nod of acceptance, granting me permission to leave the room. I ran up to my room, and collapsed on the bed letting my mind wander. Tomorrow, I'd wake up to a note from my father, who'd leave me the directions and timing for my arrival at Casa de Jonas. It's all part of the role, and this one shouldn't be any different.

Ha, yeah sure.


End file.
